


Order of Time

by esama



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tidus's story ends and starts again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed

Tidus knocked on the side of the wall tentatively – it didn't make much of a noise, but Yuna looked up anyway. She looked tired and weirdly disappointed under the usual calm, smiling exterior of determination. It was a look Tidus knew he would learn the hate… if there was more time.

"We should…" he started and then stopped because… geez. She didn't want to and he didn't want to and no one wanted to – but they should and damn if it didn't sting. His shoulders slumping, Tidus folded his arms and leaned to the side of the broken pillar. "I don't wanna do it," he admitted quietly.

"Neither do I," Yuna admitted and then patted the stairs she was sitting on.

Tidus lurched towards her and slumped down beside her, feeling that same bone deep tiredness he'd felt ever since he'd found out about… about everything. Ever since Auron had faded. Ever since he'd found out about the Dream… ever since he'd found out about Yuna, and the final summoning. "Damn it," he muttered and ran his hands over his hair before looking at her.

The worst thing about dying, it turned out, wasn't the dying bit. It was the whole taking other people with him. Taking Yuna with him.

"If… if you aren't sure, then," Yuna swallowed. "Kimahri would do it, I think."

"Nah, I'll do it," Tidus answered with a sigh. "Kimahri would do it sure, but…" But Kimahri was real. He had clan and friends and future with the Ronso, maybe, or if not that then he could probably go to Besaid, help out there – there were lot of things Kimahri could do.

Tidus… what the hell would he do, after Yuna died?

Anyone of the others would do it, sure, take his place in a heart beat, but they'd leave a lot of pain behind them. Lulu, Wakka, take either one of them off the equation and the other part would suffer for the rest of their lives – or until the next time Sin returned. And Rikku… no, no way. Yuna wouldn't stand for that one either. Rikku was just… too bright to be sacrificed. There were so many things, good things, Rikku could do.

Tidus was the best option. He didn't leave anyone heart broken after him. And after wards, once the Calm would be over and Sin would return – _he_ would return as all devouring destructive monster… well. He wasn't real. Theory was, it didn't hurt Dreams as much.

"I think this is probably why I was brought out – why Jecht was brought out," Tidus said quietly. "So that no one… living has to suffer being Sin."

"Don't say that," Yuna whispered. "That makes you sound like –"

"Like, what? Like I was raised to be sacrificed?" Tidus asked and gave her a look. "Like _you_?"

Not much she could say to that. Yuna just sort of slumped down, unhappy and sad, her strong mask breaking along the edges. All their Pilgrimage she'd been so strong – she still was so strong, Tidus really had no idea how she did it. Even now, it wasn't her death that made her break. It was his.

And in the mean while, he was just kind of… not happy, never happy about this crap, but there was something about it that was almost a weird relief. It would be horrible, he knew that, he'd suffer like Jecht, the stupid bastard, was suffering. He probably had no idea how bad it would really be, to be Sin, to kill people, not being able to help himself…

But he'd never have face that gaping pit of _what now_ again. The confusion that had started at the sunken ruins and had grown ever wider as the days had gone by and then consumed everything when Auron had faded and left Tidus behind with the realisation that he wasn't even, that he'd never been… that Zanarkand wasn't…

He'd avoided thinking about it too much. Now, soon, it wouldn't matter.

Shaking his head, Tidus leaned back and stared up. Above them, pyreflies were flickering about, that soft ethereal cooing echoing in the ruins of Zanarkand. "I'm not… it's not good, none of this is good, but… it could be worse," he said quietly.

"We'll be saving a lot of people," Yuna agreed quietly, staring at her hands. "For a little while, people won't have to be afraid. There will be Calm and people will be safe, can feel safe… for a little while."

Tidus nodded. The sort of peace and safety he'd taken for granted in his Zanarkand, people of Spira only knew in terrible intermitted bursts of Calm. It kind of made him feel terrible about… everything.

It was a weird sort of privilege, to not be real. Even with that gaping void, ever widening, and the terrible realisation of all the things he didn't know – his mother's name, his own age, where he'd studied, what his favourite food was, what were the names of his team mates on Zanarkand Apes… Zanarkand had been peaceful. Beautiful perfect photograph of bygone city, all blemishes artificially removed, details blurred.

"I just wish we had more time," Yuna whispered, running her hands over her face. "Just… a little more time. We could've… come up with another way."

But that was the terrible thing about the Pilgrimage and Sin. Every day you stalled… more people died.

"Maybe if you hadn't married Seymour," Tidus said, nudging at her side with an elbow.

Yuna let out a choked sort of chuckle at that and lowered her hand, looking at the ring on her finger. Seymour had given her one pretty ring, Tidus mused. It was designed like moon lily, with couple of white gems for anthers. Pretty and symbolic.

The ceremony had been pretty and symbolic too.

"That bastard isn't even _here_ ," Tidus muttered.

"He's a Maester. And being here… wasn't the point," Yuna sighed.

No. Point had been the rumours travelling up and down the pilgrimage road. Point were the radio broadcasts and news reports, the interview Yuna had given, about how happy she was, the ones Seymour had given, about how she was the shining beacon of hope of all Spira. Point had been distraction and entertainment, for a little while.

After they'd die, Spira would celebrate Yuna, and Seymour would benefit from that too. Their marriage bound together three races, Human, Guado, Al Bhed, and her death turned Seymour into a widower martyr. A Maester, and the late High Summoner's husband. Thinking about the political and public power the guy would have made Tidus' head spin a little.

But one of Seymour's wedding vows to Yuna had been to find another way to defeat Sin, a permanent way, a way that did not sacrifice Summoners and Guardians. Who knew if the guy would actually do it, but…

Well. Little hope was better than no hope.

"This _sucks_ ," Tidus muttered.

"Yeah," Yuna sighed and looked at him. "For what it's worth… I'm glad you're here with me. The others… would be fine too, but…"

Tidus nodded and when she moved towards him, he gathered her into his arms and held right, tighter than he'd ever held anything else. She was… so many things to him. Friend, companion, his Summoner, his other half from other side. A reflection on a twisted mirror, what he might've been, had their roles been reversed. Maybe, if there had been time, she might've been even more. So he held her tight, for all the things they were and could've been, because he knew the moment he let go…

"Sorry," Tidus whispered back. "I'm sorry I couldn't show you Zanarkand."

Yuna let out a wet little laugh and shook her head. "Thank you," she said after a long, strained silence, and nothing else.

Together they stood up and then, hand in hand, headed to join the others. Lulu looked up when they did and Wakka took aborted step towards them, hesitating. Kimahri stood in attention, a tight grimace on his face, and Rikku just… sort of slumped where she was standing. It was while before anyone said anything.

"Are you ready to go?" Lulu asked, quiet, serious, almost apologetic.

No, Tidus thought.

"Yes," Yuna answered, and squeezed his hand. "We're ready."

It was time to die.

 

* * *

 

 

Tidus floated in the air, in the water, above the dock. There was the boat where he'd been… raised, maybe. His mother had lived there, when she'd lived, and distantly he wondered how was it that dream could die anyway.

Auron had lived there after wards, with him, done his best to raise him right but… Not much of what he said ever stuck with Tidus. Not really. He remembered it, of course, there weren't that many things Tidus really forgot, but… he didn't ever internalise the lessons Auron gave him. Not really.

Maybe his personality had been predestined. Like everything else about his existence, all the way up to the Final Aeon, and his death.

"No!" a voice as familiar as his own snapped and Tidus turned, mid air, mid water. Bahamut's Fayth was there, hovering beside him, small hands squeezed into furious fists, teeth bared in angry grimace. "This wasn't supposed to happen _again_!"

Tidus blinked and looked down – and suddenly, Jecht was there, playing with a blitzball right below them. Casually kicking it on one foot, easy as anything. It had taken Tidus… it had… he'd trained to learn that technique. Hadn't he?

Or had he just, one day, known how to do it himself.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Bahamut's Fayth whispered furiously. "It wasn't – you were supposed to break the spiral, not perpetuate it!"

Tidus frowned and looked at him. "What the hell was I supposed to do then?" he asked, idly wading the water that wasn't really even there. "How was I supposed to know what to do – you never told me anything, no one told me anything! There was just the pilgrimage and Yuna and…"

"That was the point! You didn't know! You weren't supposed to know!" the Fayth said. "Not knowing… you were supposed to think of something else."

"Like what?"

"I…" the Fayth hesitated and then his shoulders slumped. "You were supposed to figure it out. I, you… you were supposed to –"

"Well I didn't," Tidus snapped. "I couldn't – there wasn't any time. We had to do something – people were dying, Sin was killing so many people every day, we had to _do something_ and we did. The only thing anyone knew how to do."

The Fayth slumped even more, so much so that he actually dropped a feet or two, dejectedly floating down. "You, talking of not having time," he murmured. "Funny."

"How exactly is that funny?" Tidus snapped.

"Because you have all the time in the world," the Fayth said and looked up at him. "You do, you know. Because you're you."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

The Fayth held up a hand, and magic whirled on top of his palm, familiar white sparks of a spell Tidus knew pretty damn well. It was his spell, after all.

Haste.

Bahamut's Fayth let the spell flicker above his hand for a moment and then closed his fingers on it, smothering it. "We did too good a job, making you peaceful," he lamented. "Same with Jecht, though he rebelled all his life against it. Knew it wasn't right. You didn't, though, because we learned from him, did better job with you."

"What?" Tidus asked, confused, and floated down. "What are you talking about?"

"You, Jecht," The Fayth said quietly. "Didn't you ever wonder why you two?"

Tidus scoffed. "'Course I did. But there was never any time."

"There's time now," the Fayth shrugged and looked down, to the memory of Jecht bouncing the Blitzball on one foot. "We based Zanarkand, this Zanarkand," he motioned at the Dream, "on what we remembered. Everything about it is as accurate as we could remember… with some exceptions. The war with Bevelle, the war that… that killed Zanarkand, we didn't want to dream of it. So we didn't. We took it out. It and all of it's influences."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because you and Jecht, you're both based on real people," the Fayth said quietly. "Jecht… he was a general in the war. Our best generals, really. One of Yu Yevon's loudest political opponents too. He… opposed Yu Yevon on lot of things."

Tidus frowned. "So people of Zanarkand are based on real people?" he asked dubiously. "Does that mean I was too?"

The Fayth nodded, bowing his head. "He was a warrior. And an idol," he said and sighed. "You were… the parts of him that didn't… involve the war."

"Huh," Tidus muttered, crossing his hands behind his neck. "He a blitzball player too?"

"No. Neither was the general – we made you that way," the Fayth admitted. "It was a peaceful option."

Tidus frowned a little at that, staring at Zanarkand's sky, perpetually dark. Sun never rose in Zanarkand and never set. It was always night, and there were always stars. Idly he wondered if they were actually pyreflies, flickering up there. "So, what?" Tidus muttered. "Because he was a warrior and hero or whatever, I was supposed to be too?"

The Fayth shook his head and sighed. "He was… special," he admitted and looked up at him. "Tell me about your Final Aeon."

Tidus frowned. "Don't you know? Didn't you see us fight Sin?"

The Fayth nodded. "But I can't see through your eyes anymore. You're not our dream, not anymore. Please tell me."

Tidus frowned and then shook his head. "I think it was feline," he said quietly. "There wasn't time to look, but Jecht was kind of like a lion, right? I'm pretty sure I wasn't a lion, but I was some kind of cat."

What he knew better was how he'd fought, as the Final Aeon, under Yuna's command. He'd been so fast, too fast to think, when he'd tore into Sin. Almost teleporting between places, attacking from all sides. Yuna hadn't been able to keep up, her energy had been wearing out so fast. And he'd…

"I used a lot of time magic," Tidus murmured, frowning. "Hastes on top of each other. And I think… there were times when there were duplicates of me, fighting Sin."

And then Yuna had fallen, and in his fury Tidus, the Final Aeon, had torn Sin open for it.

The Fayth nodded. "His Aeon was like that too," he murmured. "When he was alive."

Tidus blinked with surprise at that and turned to the Fayth. "The alive-me? Wait, what do you mean, his Aeon, when he was alive? Was he a Summoner?"

"No. A Guardian. Back then it meant something different," the Fayth said and shook his head, looking at him steadily. "But he too could control time. That was why he was so powerful, why he was… if he hadn't died so young, if Yu Yevon hadn't gotten so desperate, if things had worked out differently, maybe he could've… made a difference. But he died. And we lost his Aeon with him."

"But – wait, how can you even –" Tidus frowned. "You know what, I don't care. What does this have to do with me?" he asked and waved around them. "What does it even matter, now? I'm Sin, now. Nothing I can do except wait for the Armour to build itself and then off I go, killing people."

"This is the only time when it matters," the Fayth said. "Yu Yevon will eventually take over your mind and you will lose yourself in Sin, but not yet, not for some time. Right now, you have control over some of Sin's power."

Tidus folded his arms. "Yeah?" he asked uneasily.

"When Jecht had this power… he took Auron to Zanarkand," the Fayth said. "And then he saved what he could so he could take both of you out of it, eventually. Right now you can do something like that."

Tidus scowled. "What, take someone else out so that they can become the Sin after me? How about _no_?"

The Fayth shook his head. "Jecht didn't have your powers, he could only do what Sin can do, nothing else," he said. "But you are different. You are… we changed you a lot, yes, but you are still based on a real Zanarkandian Guardian. You have his magic. And now, you have some of Sin's power."

Tidus frowned, leaning back a little, still treading the water. "You can't be serious," he said. "Is that even possible?"

"We'll never know if you don't try," the Fayth said and looked at him, not quite desperately but not quite calmly either. "Will you try?"

Tidus swallowed and looked down. Dream Jecht was gone and there was dream him instead, a young kid, crying alone on the deck. Crying for dead mom whose name he didn't know, for dad who he hated, for the undead who ended up not-raising him.

"My memories aren't right. Is my personality even mine, is any of this mine? Are my experiences…" he trailed away because all the answers were pretty much _no_.

"What you've done after coming out of Zanarkand… that's all you," the Fayth said.

Tidus took a breath – or what passed for one in this nowhere-place. So, his friendships, his decisions, all of that… those were real. Spira was real. His friends were real. Yuna, Wakka, Lulu, Kimahri, Rikku… Auron too, when he was alive. They were real.

That was something, at least.

"Yeah," Tidus said and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, okay. What do I do?"

"I don't know," the Fayth admitted and tentatively took his hand – and Tidus thought, for a moment, he could remember. A thousand years of existence in the Dream rang in the back of his mind, of being someone else at first, of living, growing, dying peacefully and living again, of being subtly changed with each iteration, evolved from Shuyin into Tidus.

Zanarkand hadn't existed thousand years in stagnation, he realised. It had existed in perpetual circle of reincarnating itself and it's people. Evolving, without ever really changing. He'd known Bahamut's Fayth for a thousand years, the Fayth had always been a shadow at the edges of his awareness, a ever present observer. And the Fayth… had always been a child.

Just as unchanging as Zanarkand itself.

"Well," Tidus muttered. "I guess we'll figure something out."

 

* * *

 

 

It was kind of nostalgic, to wake up half submerged on a slap of cold, old rock. That had happened way too many times during their Pilgrimage – hell, it was how everything had started too. So, for a moment Tidus just lay there, listening to the distant thunder and the lapping of the ocean waves, eying the bird that was watching him sideways, waiting for him to die probably. His mouth tasted like salt.

Fitting, that.

"Screw you," Tidus told the bird, his voice rough and strained. Affronted, the bird flapped it's wings at him and took off and he watched it go until it became indistinguishable from the stormy sky above.

Well, with mouth and voice and all, he probably wasn't Sin anymore. Not that he'd really gotten the chance to be Sin in the first place and thank… somebody-that's-not-Yu-Yevon for that. He'd never wanted to be Sin and – well. Whatever. Hopefully it didn't matter now.

Grunting with the strain, Tidus pushed himself up to his knees and looked around himself. He'd washed up on some ruins and they looked… vaguely familiar. Actually, very familiar. This slap of rocks, those pillars over there, cluster of rubble, broken walls, some old pavilions.

"Okay, so…" Tidus pursed his lips, running his hands through his hair. "I guess… this is it, then."

It was the same submerged ruins where he'd first washed up. Where he'd almost been killed by a fiend, where he'd met Rikku and the Al Bhed for the first time. So… holy shit.

"It worked," Tidus murmured. "It worked. Damn, it actually worked."

Quickly he looked himself over – and everything was in it's right place again, arms, legs, everything – no fur, no scales, no nothing, just skin and limbs and clothes, right how he'd left it all before the Final Aeon. He had a human face again, and hair, ears, eyes, all that stuff – and no way was he ever going to take it all for granted again, because just to have a _human mouth_ was all sorts of amazing.

Standing up, Tidus stretched out his arms and just laughed at the storm, at the ruins, at the time itself. It was all so freaking insane and he had no idea what so ever on what the hell he was even going to do now, but… he'd beat fate, he'd beat destiny, he'd beat _Sin_ in a weird way.

He'd turned back time and he was a _human_ again!

"Hell yes!" Tidus shouted into the storm above, spreading his arms. "Beat you Fate! I freaking _beat you_! Take that!"

The storm rumbled and Tidus laughed himself sore at it.


	2. Chapter 2

Tidus sat at the edge of a stone footpath, looking down, frowning. Something was… wrong.

He'd not been in these ruins for that long, the last time. Few confused hours, chased by fiends, backed into corner. He'd spend most of the time in the collapsed temple, cold and wet and hungry and feeling sorry for himself. So it wasn't that weird that he couldn't remember how the place was exactly, he hadn't really… given it that good a look, that time. But…

This place was different. Key difference being – the collapsed temple.

It wasn't collapsed.

"What the hell…?" Tidus muttered, staring at the building. It was sort of listing to the side and all around it there were ruins – but it was still _standing_  mostly upright. There were even few adjacent buildings which looked like they might be… well. Safe. It was still a ruin, no mistake about that, but it wasn't as badly ruined as he remembered it being.

Also, the fiend that had chased him last time around, the big one with the mouth and terrible water sucking power, it wasn't there. The little fish ones he could see, but even those were fewer than the last time he'd been there. That, plus the not-quite-as-ruined-ruins…

"This is the wrong time, isn't it?" he muttered to himself, staring at the temple, still mostly standing. The place was still in ruins so he probably… hadn't gone back that much? Not like centuries or anything – because he remembered more or less how the temple looked and it had a very Yevon like appearance. So it… probably wasn't like thousand years old. Probably. If it was that old, then it would've looked much worse when he'd washed up there the first time, right?

And it was already in ruins, just not as _much_  in ruins, so…

"Ugh," Tidus grumbled with disgust and stood up. Ten minutes and time travel was already giving him a headache. "Whatever," he said and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm just going to go and have a look. Sitting here won't get me anywhere."

With that decided, he headed down the stone path at casual jog. It was in better shape than it had been the last time around – though he still went carefully over the higher parts, just in case. It lead to the steps of the temple – most of which were under water, along with the front yard and lot of the statues that had lined the yard. On the steps that were above water though...

There were boxes there, crates, some large jugs. Some of them were broken, all of them were empty, but… they weren't rotten or anything. They looked like they were pretty recent, actually. And more tellingly, there were fishing gear.

"What the -?" Tidus murmured, peering at the poles and nets. If the boxes looked recent, they had nothing on these things. These didn't look just recent, but recently _used_. Maintained even. There were even some bait and -

" _Fire!_ "

It came from nowhere and Tidus jumped back automatically, Caladbolg appearing instantly in his hand. Turning sharply and quickly preparing for battle, he faced the spell caster and -

"Thunder!" the spell caster snapped and waved a elaborate, familiar looking staff at him. There was a familiar crackle of energy and then a zap, racing towards Tidus. "Stand still, you fiend!"

"Oi -" Tidus jumped back again, avoiding the bolt of electricity with ease. "Hey, calm down, man, I'm not a fiend -"

"Then you are an unsent! Blizzard!

"I'm not-!" Yelping, more with annoyance than pain Tidus took the hit and then shook it off, literally, scattering bits of ice everywhere. The attacker was already preparing for another spell, and Tidus let out a breath. "Okay, fine, if that's how you wanna play it, eat this," he grunted, and concentrated; "Blizzaga!"

A thick sheet of ice materialised with a great crackle, surrounding the attacker and then bursting into ice shards and then…

…then the guy slumped down and _died_.

Blinking Tidus paused and started at the guy, but no, the guy was now lying on the stone steps, still, inert. Dead.

"Oh, geez," Tidus muttered guiltily and quickly dug out a Phoenix Down, throwing at the dead guy. In flicker of light, the guy came back to, gasping desperately for breath. Oh geez – a newbie too.

Wincing at himself, Tidus hurried to the guy's side. "Hey, uh – sorry, man, didn't mean to, you know – are you okay?" he asked awkwardly, crouching down and taking out another potion. "Here, Hi-Potion, it ought to take the edge... off… _wait_..."

Tidus stared and the Guado glared at him even as he snatched the potion from his hand and downed it in single go. Tidus blinked, rubbed at his eyes and – yeah, what he was seeing didn't change.

Blue hair, purple eyes, blue veins on his pale face... yeah. It was Seymour, Yuna's creepy ass husband. Except it wasn't. Nope, not at all.

"What are you staring at, fiend?" Seymour asked through gritted teeth and stood up with far less dignity and poise than Tidus had came to expect of the guy. "If you have something to say, say it!"

"Well, uh…" Tidus said and then wasn't sure how to continue because this guy, he... was kind of short, for one. Well, shorter than he should be. And a bit thinner. His hair was shorter too, a lot shorter – the horn thingies only reached his mid back. And he wore, well... normal clothes. Long jacket, trousers, boots – no weird robe with it's huge belt in sight.

And he was young, too, which was what struck Tidus the hardest. Seymour had always been kind of ageless, even worse than the rest of the Guado, but...

"Well?" Seymour demanded, irritable. "Trust me, whatever you have to say, I have heard it before."

"Well, first of all – what the hell were you attacking me for?" Tidus asked and swung to his feet to face him properly – and okay, he wasn't that short. Shorter, maybe, but… still taller than Tidus. Damnit.

"You are an unsent, and most likely a fiend to be, if not one already," Seymour sniffed imperiously. "The quicker I disperse the pyreflies, the less likely are you to turn corrupt right at my door steps."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not an unsent," Tidus said, pointing a finger at the guy because… whatever was even happening here aside, he at least was sure about that one. "And second – your doorsteps? You don't – you can't be serious – you live here?"

Seymour harrumphed at him and folded his arms, staring at him down his nose. "If you are not an unsent, then what are you? How did you get here? Where do you come from?"

"I washed up," Tidus said and pointed at the ruins. "Just over there. Woke up on a rock there," he added. "And I came from... somewhere."

"Unsent always have difficulties remembering," Seymour said flatly, gripping his staff tighter.

"I'm not an unsent!" Tidus said and threw his arms up. "I'm really not, just trust me okay?"

"Hm. No," Seymour answered. "Not until I have proof."

"Dead until proven alive, huh? Tch," Tidus muttered and turned Caladbolg in his hand. "Not a bad principle to live by, in Spira."

As Seymour watched suspiciously, Tidus used his sword to cut along his outer arm – not enough to do serious injury, but enough to bleed a little. "There, see?" he asked, showing the arm to the guy – and thank _somebody_  the Fayth had made him so well. "Not an unsent. Happy now?"

Seymour inspected the arm very suspiciously and then, slowly, met his eyes. "Very well," he said stiffly and the scowled at him. "You killed me!" he then accused.

"You attacked me first and you were dead only for, like, couple of seconds," Tidus answered with a shrug. "Honestly wasn't expecting you to be so weak – I mean –"

Too late, Seymour face had already gone deathly pale with fury. It was kind of weirdly hilarious, but also kind of scary because Seymour, the one Tidus had known, didn't do angry. To see this version of him so easily affected was… weirdly terrifying actually.

Tidus leant back, laughing awkwardly. "Ahaha, sorry, I mean – I'm used to fighting pretty strong opponents and, uh…" He swallowed. "I'm just making this worse aren't I? But really – you attacked me first. Take some blame, man. And I did give you a Phoenix Down and potion and everything. So you're okay now."

Seymour took a breath, obviously trying to calm himself. " _Fine_ ," he said through clenched teeth. "That spell you used. What was it?"

"Third form of the one _you_ used on me first," Tidus said pointedly and shrugged before looking at the temple. "Are you seriously living here? This place is a ruin, there nothing here."

"I have noticed that, yes," Seymour muttered and looked away. "And that is rather the point, too."

"Eh?"

Seymour shook his head, looking vaguely disgusted with him and turned to head inside. "It's about to rain," he said and just walked inside without another word. Tidus stared after him with surprise and then scratched at the back of his head.

"Okay then," he muttered. Well. At least _some_ things never changed. The guy was a little less a creep here, maybe, but he was still a jerk. It was kind of comforting.

Especially since… since the fact that Seymour was here and young, and all that, that was… probably not good for Tidus. He'd gone back and that was amazing, but… just _how far_ had he gone back? Years before he meant to be, at least. That was probably not… good. Yeah.

Crud.

His shoulder slumping a bit Tidus let Caladbolg go and as the sword faded, he followed Seymour inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Seymour grit his teeth as the... blond ruffian from the ocean peered around in the temple chamber, dripping water everywhere as he did. The human was fidgeting little as he looked around, shifting his weight from one foot to another with nervous energy, hands clenching and un clenching, turning his head this way and that. Just looking at him made Seymour feel... exhausted.

"This place is nice," the blond said in what he probably thought was a neutral tone, but came across more pitying than anything. "I mean aside from the rain and general gloom and all that."

"Why thank you," Seymour said flatly, and headed for one of the chests on the side of the main room. It had linens and towels in it, and picking one of the latter he turned to his... guest. "Dry yourself," he said. "I shall get a fire going."

"That'd be cool of you, thanks man," the human said, sounding surprised as he accepted the towel. Somehow it irked Seymour, his surprise, but then…

He had attacked the man. It might be nothing more than that.

The blond human rubbed at his spiky short hair lazily with it while Seymour walked to the fire pit and added few pieces of drift wood on the cold coals. He normally didn't bother with a fire for himself, not outside cooking – there wasn't enough wood in Baaj to waste on warmth, and he had magic to warm him when it got truly cold. But it wasn't every day he had guests.

Guests. _Hah_ , he thought and cast a rather vicious Fire spell on the wood.

"You are out of luck, washing up here," Seymour commented idly, adjusting the fire to make sure it would keep burning even once the spell ran it's course. "There is no ocean traffic here. Only a ship that visits once a month and it is under strict orders to not accept passengers."

"That's – wait," the blond human said, coming closer to the fire. "Orders not to accept – doesn't that mean you're...?"

"Stuck here myself?" Seymour asked and looked him over. Now, in the light of the fire, he could take the human's clothes over – and though he had hardly expected it, it was obvious that this human wasn't part of his father's… following. No one in the priesthood would ever wear something as absurd what the human was wearing.

Actually he wasn't quite sure why anyone would wear what he was wearing. Why were his… overall's asymmetrical? And why have armour over one arm, and not the other?

Aside from that, the human looked fairly strong under his ridiculous attire, as far as Seymour could judge human physique anyway. He could dodge spells and he used a sword as a weapon – knew high level magic too. If he wasn't in the priesthood or part of the warrior monks, then…

"Are you part of the Crusaders?" Seymour asked. The other option was a Guardian, but the human didn't seem distressed, as a Guardian who had lost his Summoner should be.

"Me? Nah. I'm a Blitzball player. Or I was, anyway," the blond human said and tugged at his ear with the towel, shaking his head a little as he did. "So why are you stuck here?"

Seymour met his eyes and then arched an eyebrow. "Blitzball player with a sword and high level magic. Interesting combination."

"I am also a decent pick pocket," the human grinned and then looked around them in the high chamber. "But seriously, dude, what the hell? I mean this place is liveable and kind of grand, sure but it's nothing on Guadosalam."

Seymour looked away sharply. "Is it?" he asked coolly. "You have been to Guadosalam, then?"

The human shrugged. "You know what? You're not gonna answer me, fine. Won't answer you either."

With that said the human fell down to sit by the fire, towel hung around his shoulders, arms folded. Seymour gave him a slightly incredulous look, which the human answered with a rather exaggerated stubborn expression. Was he… serious? The expression was probably not quite genuine, it was too embellished, and yet…

Blinking, Seymour looked away. It had been far too long since he'd had a proper conversation with someone not a priest of Yevon. He couldn't for the life of him remember if all normal, non-ordained humans were this ridiculous or if he'd just happened to run into a particularly strange one.

Well… He could hold his peace until the rain washed Baaj away, but what difference did it make, if this human knew or not? Nothing would change. Nothing ever did.

"I was exiled by my father," Seymour said after a while and chuckled coldly, "the venerable and much beloved Maester Jyscal Guado. Because, as you can tell, I am a halfbreed and the Guado could not be expected to endure my scandalous presence."

He almost hoped that this human _would_ be a devout follower of Yevon, so that he'd get the pleasure of seeing his face twist on disbelief and anger at his badmouthing of a Maester. It had been quite satisfying the first few times he'd done it to the priests who… visited him monthly.

But the human just blinked at him with surprise, no affront in sight. "What – really? Oh man that's rough," he said and scratched at the back of his head. "Geez. I knew the Guado are pretty strict but that's awful. But you got human mom, right – why not live with her?"

Seymour clenched his hands and then let them relax. He should have expected that, and yet… he hadn't. Foolish. "She's dead," he said tightly.

The human stilled at that and then his shoulders slumped. "Aw man," he said wretchedly. "I'm sorry. That sucks."

Seymour hesitated, glancing at him. He sounded… sincere.

"So, uh – no way out of here?" the blond human asked, almost visibly scampering for a change of subject. "Don't the Al Bhed poke around here? I mean they explore a lot of old ruins and stuff and this place is, well. An old ruin. "

Seymour frowned. "Not that old – there is no ancient machina here," he said slowly. "But... I have seen their boats occasionally in the distance – they never come near enough to make contact, however. I believe they know these ruins to be worthless to them."

"Hmm, I guess we need to get their attention then," the human said, crossing his hands behind his neck and thinking about it. "How often do you see them?"

"Not very often. Couple times in a moon, perhaps," Seymour said and frowned at him. "What makes you think they'd come even if you could signal them somehow?"

"I know their signal for salvage," the human said and grinned. "They'll come for _that_."

"But... there is no salvage here," Seymour said slowly. "They will hardly help you if you trick them." Not that he'd thought the Al Bhed would help this person anyway. He was starting to believe that the strangeness was particular trait of his, rather than a general trait of his species. And Al Bhed were… Al Bhed.

"Well, it's not a trick," the human said and shrugged cheerfully. "There is salvage here not far from here, it's some very valuable stuff too. And if that won't do, I can always buy us a passage. I got decent bit of Gil on me."

Seymour stared at him, expressionless. "Us," he then repeated. "Buy _us_ a passage?"

"I mean, uh..." the blond human floundered awkwardly for a moment. "If you want to stay here, that's up to you, of course, whatever you want man. But I kind of figured you wanted to leave?"

Seymour turned away, knowing his mask was breaking, his face twisting with emotion. Years of forced isolation, years of... of _nothing_ , and now this scruffy castaway just threw him this branch like it was… expected. Like it was something to be taken for granted. Like it was obvious.

Like it was just _that easy_.

"And what, precisely, do you want in return for this... act of charity?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.

"Nothing. Consider it compensation for killing you back there," the human said. "And for the towel and the fire. This is by far the nicest way I've washed up on any shore."

Seymour was quiet at that, thinking furiously. Impossible. Unlikely. Suspicious. Why would anyone, why would this man just…? No. No one would, it was idiotic to even think it – he certainly wouldn't and never so easily. There had to be something there, some secret motive, something he couldn't guess at. But what?

Seymour had admitted being a Maester's son. Was that it?

"Wash up on many shores, do you?" he asked, slow, suspicious, wondering. The man had weapons, potions, money, _magic_. And obvious advantage over Seymour himself too. The human didn't seem out right like someone who would resort to kidnapping and ransom, but…

The human snorted. "So many shores," he admitted with a laugh. "Its become a bad habit."

"I see," Seymour commented, hands squeezed into fists. The human seemed… very open. But Seymour didn't know that many humans who weren't under strict doctrines. He didn't know how well humans could _lie_. His mother had been able to lie with a brilliant smile, sometimes Seymour thought he could do it too, with practice. But was it possible to laugh and lie at the same time?

Seymour looked away and hesitated. The idea of leaving, of… of being able to leave Baaj behind, it was alluring. But what would the price be? Imprisonment elsewhere, perhaps? More humiliation? Pain? Something worse?

Death, perhaps? Hah.

"Say you catch and Al Bhed ship, pay them our passage," Seymour said slowly. "Where would you go?"

The human though about it for a moment. "Damn," he muttered. "I got no idea. I was thinking of Besaid, that's where I went before… well. I guess there really isn't any point, going back there now."

"Besaid?" Seymour asked, frowning. The island with the first Aeon? He… couldn't quite remember there being much else there, actually. Was there anything else there, but a temple and a Fayth?

"Yeah, I knew some people there, I thought… stuff that doesn't really matter anymore, I guess," the human muttered and leaned his head back, staring up at the dome high above them. "Damn. I really got no idea what to do now. Uh. I guess I'll head to Luca, try and figure stuff out."

"Luca," Seymour repeated, watching him warily. That was slightly more suspicious. Big city, great deal of people and buildings, easy to get lost in. Easy to hide a victim in.

"Either that or go with the Al Bhed, if they'd take me," the human mused, narrowing his eyes. "They got the right idea about things…"

"The Al Bhed got the _right idea about things?_ " Seymour repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, well. They do," the human shrugged and then looked at him. "I mean, I can pay them to drop you off somewhere elsewhere, probably. But we're kind of counting our goals before the game is played here, so. Uh. I don't really know?"

"… counting your goals before the game is played?"

"Sorry. Blitzball player," the human shrugged like that explained everything. Perhaps to him it did.

Seymour stared at him for a moment and then sighed. Perhaps… he was complicating things needlessly, finding faults and secret motives where none existed. Perhaps the human really was as… simple and straight forward as he seemed. Anything was possible.

And he'd been… alone far too long.

"Well. If you are truly willing, then... I would like to accept your offer," Seymour said. "Passage off Baaj would be appreciated."

"No problem, man," the human said and smiled awkwardly. "Now we just need to spot us an Al Bhed."

"Indeed," Seymour said and then, after a moment of consideration, he held out his hand. "My name is Seymour. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The human quickly dried his hand on the mostly soaking towel and then grabbed his in a firm grip. "Tidus," he said and grinned. "It's pretty nice to meet you too."


	3. Chapter 3

It was another storm. Baaj, it seemed, got them lot. According to Seymour the place used to be much like Kilika, sunny, warm, with mostly mild weather – but when Sin had attacked and destroyed most of the island's base structure hundred or so years ago, it had stabilised the region somehow. Now, it rained more often than not.

Lying on the make shift pallet Seymour had made for him, Tidus stared up at the high, domed roof and worried. It had been a couple of days now and while living with Seymour Guado of all people wasn't as bad as you'd expect, he'd kind of gotten used to much faster pace. In Baaj… nothing much happened.

Of course there had been slow moments in Yuna's Pilgrimage too, they'd always hurried and waited with Yuna. Always in hurry to get to Zanarkand and yet always waiting because they were so many people between here and there. There'd been thousands of fiends and hundreds of people in need, there'd been Operation Mi'ihen and all that entailed, there'd been Al Bhed trying to kidnap Yuna. Hurry and wait.

In Baaj, it was just waiting. Raining and waiting.

Thunder struck somewhere and with a sigh, Tidus sat up. Seymour was fast asleep on his pallet and it was kind of… funny and weird and also sad, to know that this younger Seymour slept in foetal position. Scratching the back of his neck, Tidus looked away and then headed across the wide open space of the temple chamber, and outside. It was dark outside, murky, and the rain was coming down heavily.

How Seymour could stand it, Tidus had no idea. It was just depressing, all of it.

This whole thing was weird and depressing, but oh man. Exiled in this place, and by his dad too. Seymour had always been a creep and Tidus had never liked him, back in future. But the guy could've been Jecht himself and that would still not be okay, being exiled like this. Just how long had the guy been alone anyway? Tidus had spent just couple of days in these ruins and it was already driving him bonkers.

Falling to sit on the steps where he was sheltered from the rain by the portico, Tidus stared out across the ruins and to the open ocean.

"I still have no idea what to do," he muttered to no one in particular. If it had been Yuna's time… well, it would've been obvious. Go to Yuna, join her pilgrimage, change it… somehow. Auron would've helped him, Rikku would've been way on his side. Together they could've figured it out. But…

But this wasn't that time. This was years before that time. Just how many years, he had no idea – and he couldn't exactly ask without sounding like lunatic. If Yuna's Pilgrimage had taught him anything, it was how to not ask things and sound like lunatic. Of course, towards the end Lulu had started kind of explaining everything to him automatically but still…

Going to Luca might be a good start, but then what? He needed to figure out a way to destroy Sin that was… permanent, that didn't involve a Guardian, a Summoner and the Final Aeon. It was one damn tall order, but when ever had the Fayth not asked for the impossible?

Slumping his shoulders for a moment, Tidus sighed. He was a Dream the Fayth made up – in someone's image maybe, but still. A Dream that became Sin, and that then went back in time and became human again. Impossible… was kind of a meaningless word as this point. There was some way. The Fayth thought there was. He'd trust on that.

Stretching his arms out, Tidus yawned and then froze. There was a bit of light in the distance, just a slight flash, moving – moving, in a pattern. A search light.

Only Al Bhed had search lights!

Jumping to his feet, Tidus hopped off the steps of the temple and to the high foot path and there, he quickly threw his hand up and cast a spell into the sky. First a normal Fire, small but flashy enough to show, then a Fire after it, a longer burst of light. Then another Fire and finally, second Fira. Al Bhed code C for cymjyka. When not accompanied by other codes, it stood for salvage.

For a moment it seemed like the ship hadn't noticed – but then the search light snapped to the Temple's direction. Tidus waited until he was sure they'd changed their course, and then quickly headed back inside, to wake Seymour up.

"Seymour!" he said and shook the Guado's shoulder. "Seymour, there's a ship."

"W-what are you – " Seymour grumbled, almost swiping at him and then stopping. "A ship," he repeated slowly, lowering his hand. "Are you certain?"

"Yeah, Al Bhed one – I signalled them, and I'm pretty sure they're about to come over," Tidus said. "Time to get your things together – we're about to get off this ruin."

Seymour stared at him for a moment, surprised and then hesitant. Then, his expression hardening, he sat up. "Finally," he said with definite feeling and quickly got up, grabbing his long sleeved coat as he did and pulling it on.

"I'll go meet them," Tidus said and hopped back to his feet. "Make sure they don't take off without us. Come out as quick as you can. Al Bhed, they, uh… can be pretty abrupt about leaving."

"Noted," Seymour said, and headed off to get his things. Tidus gave him a look – it was so weird, now, to see people who couldn't internalise things. Who had to _pack_ their stuff in bags.

Ah, well. No time for that.

He headed outside again and then hurried over the ruins, the foot paths and the pillars, until he reached the very edge of Baaj ruins, and had gone as far as he could go. There was kinda-sorta pier there, part of what had once been a bridge probably, before half of the island had sank under water. There, he lit a Fire on is hand and held it up, a signal for the ship to follow.

It took them no time at all to reach him, and with all the agility of an Al Bhed they pulled beside the makeshift pier. "Fru yna oui yht fryd yna oui uh ypuid, cekhymehk cymjyka?" a male voice shouted from the ship.

"So hysa ec Tidus,"Tidus shouted back, hands cupped around his mouth.  "So lusbyheuh yht E vuiht cusa cdivv ihtan fydan - vun byccyka uvv drec nulg, fa'mm damm oui frana du veht ed."

"Oui vuiht cusa cdivv?" came the highly sarcastic reply. "Oui'na kuehk du haat suna dryh cdivv, puo."

"Fryd yna oui tuehk drana yhofyo?" someone else shouted from the ship.  "Kud crebfnalgat? Dryd ouin cymjyka?"

"Cusadrehk mega dryd," Tidus shouted back. "Yht so cymjyka ec yh airship. Dyga ic uh puynt yht E'mm cruf oui frana."

That made them shut up pretty quick. There was lot of talking between the Al Bhed, muffled talking that the rain and the storm ate up before it could reach Tidus. While he waited, he could hear steps behind him as Seymour joined him, the hood of his coat pulled up against the rain.

It was kind of funny, to see him with his hair covered.

"Well?" Seymour asked.

"Still waiting on them. Told them that if they'd take us on board, I'd show you where they can find some sweet salvage," Tidus answered, crossing his hands behind his neck. "We'll see if they take it."

"Frana'c dra creb, puo?" a voice shouted at him from the ship.

"Hud kuhhy damm oui dryd ihmacc oui dyga ic uh puynt," Tidus shouted back, making Seymour start beside him.

"You speak Al Bhed?" the Guado asked, surprised.

"I have some Al Bhed friends. Or… I had," Tidus said and sighed. "It's a fun language though. Not that hard to learn either, when you really get into it."

Seymour gave him inscrutable look and said nothing as just then someone jumped off the Al Bhed ship and onto the broken bridge. It was a burly Al Bhed in their usual skin tight diving suits and it took moment for Tidus to place the face.

The hair threw him.

"It's not every day you find someone speaking our tongue, outside our people," Cid said, folding his arms. "So, what's this about an airship?"

Tidus shrugged. "I saw it a while back, along with some ancient ruins, not far from here," he answered. "Not going to tell you more unless you promise to take us off this place."

"Right," Cid answered dubiously. "And where would your lordships want to go, then?"

Tidus hesitated, glancing at Seymour.

"Besaid," Seymour said, lifting his chin slightly. "Or Kilika, whichever suits best for you. Just off this island, in general."

"Hmm," the Al Bhed leader answered, looking between them dubiously, taking in Tidus's clothes and Seymour's long jacket and staff. "We'll see about those ancient ruins first," he said then and turned to Tidus. "And if your ship is there, we'll take you to Kilika."

"That works," Tidus said. "Thanks, we appreciate it."

"Don't thank yet. Before I see the salvage, you're in real danger of being thrown over board," Cid said and then turned back to the said ship. "Come on."

Tidus jumped on board the ship with no problem, but Seymour stared at it hesitantly for a moment. "It's okay," Tidus said to him and held out his hand. "I got you."

Seymour stared at him for a split of a second, his face unreadable.

Then he took his hand, and let Tidus draw him on the ship, and away from Baaj.

 

* * *

 

 

"… over there," Tidus was saying, pointing on some markers on a glowing machina map, sitting on the air atop a machina table, in the heart of Al Bhed machina ship. "Here, there's under old under water facility – there's a power room right about here, bit busted but there's still some power there. Just few swings at the power core, and it should work. That'll give you lights under water and the ship… is right about here…"

"You know a lot about the area," the short haired Al Bhed they met on the bridge said, arms folded. "Lot of details."

"I might've been swimming around there for a while," Tidus shrugged and crossed his hands behind his neck. "I'm not much for salvage, but it pretty interesting. Plus there were some fun fiends down there."

"… _fun fiends_?"

"Er, well," Tidus hesitated. "I, uh… like fighting fiends? Uh, sorry."

Seymour shook his head at that. Well, even if he seemed to have uncanny knowledge about Al Bhed – and knew their language too – Tidus still remained… Tidus. Seymour might not know much about him, but he knew that much at least. And if he truly enjoyed fighting fiends, well… Seymour couldn't really say he was surprised.

"Fine," the Al Bhed who seemed to be in lead said, before turning to the other Al Bhed and talking to them in their language, which Tidus seemed to be following with no problem while Seymour couldn't understand a word of.

"What are they saying?" Seymour asked tightly, as Tidus joined him.

"We're going to head to the ruins, to check them out. If the ruins are there and how I told them they are, which they are… the Al Bhed will take us to Kilika," Tidus said. "And deal with the salvage later, without us under foot."

"Ah," Seymour said and frowned. "Is it wise?" he then asked. "Tampering with ancient machina, handing it over to the _Al Bhed_ …"

"No one's doing anything with it as it is," Tidus shrugged and gave him a look. "And what the Al Bhed do, tamper with forbidden machina or whatever, well that's their business," he said. "Besides, that airship… it would be a good thing, if they get it flying again."

"How so?"

"Well. They're faster than boats, airships. And the Al Bhed, well. They got the same troubles everyone else, just with less support," the blond human said and trailed away for a moment. "When they get hurt, when they get attacked… no one helps them. At most they point and laugh and say they deserve it or some crap like that. Airship will help them a bunch, probably."

Seymour stared at him incredulously for a moment. Was he being serious? Help the Al Bhed – why would anyone? Why would Tidus? "You are not an Al Bhed," he said slowly, suspiciously.

"Nope," Tidus shrugged and folded his arms, giving him a look. "Not a Guado either, you know. Doesn't mean I can't care."

Seymour gritted his teeth and looked away – to find some of the Al Bhed not so surreptitiously staring at them. They looked away when they noticed him watching, but it was obvious they were listening, so Seymour bit his tongue on the rest he wanted to ask.

This… wasn't his world. Here he had no standing to accuse or judge the Al Bhed, or Tidus, for their beliefs.

"Hey, we got off the island," Tidus then said. "Soon, we'll get to Kilika. That's awesome, isn't it?"

"Preferable to Baaj," Seymour admitted begrudgingly. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach the little boy who had idolised his father and done everything his mother asked of him was recoiling from all of it. Jyscal had ordered him to stay in Baaj, stay out of sight, stay _safe_ , whatever that was supposed to mean. And now… he'd left.

He'd disobeyed his father. He'd not even let a message, or sign, nothing – he'd just left.

No.

Escaped.

And now he had little notion on what he would do next. Getting away from Baaj had always been a hope and a dream that lived strong and desperate inside him, but to have it now… he didn't know what he would do, outside of it. Where would he go? How would he manage, without Jyscal sending his little monthly care packages.

His short, pathetic fight with Tidus had shown him loud and clear how weak he truly was. And on top of that, getting away from Baaj didn't change the reasons as to why he had been sent there in the first place. He was still half Guado and half Human, where ever he went. Outsider in both worlds.

He'd never belong anywhere.

Tidus elbowed his side and Seymour almost lashed out at him. "Hey," Tidus said. "Come on, let's go outside to the deck. The air's too closed in here."

"Agreed," Seymour said. Anything to get away from the scrutiny of the Al Bhed, he thought, and followed Tidus outside. They were followed by one of the Al Bhed, of course, who watched from the door leading under the metal deck, but it was still preferable to the cabins below.

Outside, it was somewhat startling to realise that Baaj was no longer anywhere within sight. Just like that, without him even noticing it, they'd left it behind.

"How long were you stuck there?" Tidus asked, leaning onto the railing that separated them from the water.

"I… the last time I was permitted to leave was when I was ten," Seymour said quietly, staring where he thought Baaj probably was. "Eight years ago."

"Jeez," Tidus murmured with heart felt feeling, his head hung a bit. "I don't even know what to say to that, it sucks so much."

"Hm," Seymour hummed, agreeing. And the only reason he'd been permitted to leave then was because it had been his mother's wish, her _dying_ wish, to go to Zanarkand. "I understand some of my father's reasoning," he admitted. "In his own way he was trying to protect me from the prejudices of the Guado – we, they, are an old race of ancient ideals, and very slow to change. I know my life would have been… difficult, among them. Humans weren't accepting either."

And his mother's sacrifice, for all the things she'd intended with it… had not helped on that score. Afterwards it was quickly buried, hidden, the truth covered up – hidden from view, like they'd always been.

Tidus stared at him, making an unhappy face at him.

"I don't agree with him, nor do I sympathise with his reasoning," Seymour said. "Hate would have been preferable to… isolation."

"Yeah," Tidus agreed, heavy. "I hear you."

And strangely enough, Seymour thought he really might. "So," he said, clearing his throat. "Do you intend to stay with the Al Bhed?"

"No, I don't think so," Tidus admitted and looked backwards, at the door leading below decks. "Don't think these Al Bhed would help me anyway."

"Hm," Seymour hummed. Help with what, he wondered, but didn't ask.

"So, I'll come with you to Kilika, I guess," Tidus said and looked at him. "What are you going to do then?"

"I… don't know," Seymour admitted. "It depends on what happens there, I suppose." And on how people would react to him. The Al Bhed had been inscrutable about it – if they'd realised he was half Guado, they didn't let it show. How people of Kilika would see him… well. Staying might be impossible, and before they got there, there was no way to know where they could go.

Kilika had a temple though…

Somewhere in the back of his head, where Anima's Fayth had rooted herself, an old thought rose unbidden. Not his, but hers. Thought of hope and greatness and acceptance. Thought of Seymour Guado, the High Summoner, who united two races in celebration and happiness when he brought the Calm to their people.

Seymour clenched his teeth on the sudden bout of nausea that thought brought, and stomped hard on the Fayth, pushing her back as far as he could, until he could hardly feel her. Until he could pretend… she wasn't there.

"Is there something wrong?" Tidus asked, looking at him worriedly.

Seymour swallowed and then took a breath. "It's nothing," he said and gave the distant horizon a wry look. "Home sickness, perhaps."

 

* * *

 

 

The Al Bhed anchored the ship in the middle of open ocean, not a bit of land anywhere in sight. While Seymour and Tidus waited, a number of them dived below the surface, following the anchor chain down towards the bottom. The wait was long and tense, the Al Bhed above the surface tracking their progress with some machina or another.

The whispering and excited exclamations started, when the machine started to give out a sharp, thrilling beat of some kind.

"They activated the ruins," Tidus explained. "That's power signal they're getting."

"Fascinating," Seymour answered, droll.

The blond smiled at that and crossed his hands behind his head, yawning. "They'll find the ship any moment now," he predicted and leaned back, closing his eyes. "And then they'll mark the place on their maps and hopefully set course straight of Kilika. And hopefully we make it there without trouble."

"Hopefully?" Seymour asked dubiously. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"Not expecting, precisely," Tidus said. "It's just… every time I've been in these waters, we got attacked by Sin."

Seymour stared at him, expressionless. "Well that is truly comforting and I am thankful you decided to share it with me."

Tidus let out a laugh. "I think it's fine," he said. "I think. I mean…" he frowned a bit. "Well we haven't been attacked yet."

"Indeed. Truly comforting."

Eventually the Al Bhed came back to the surface, exclaiming something in their language and making grand hand motions. Tidus shrugged. "They found it," he said and then looked up as the leader of the Al Bhed marched over to them.

"Well, I guess you came through for us, boy," the man said and gave Tidus a gruff nod. "Any other salvage you might be able to point us to?"

"Nothing this big, sorry," Tidus admitted. "But if you get the systems online, who knows. These things have some neat sensors, don't they? So you'll probably end up finding more."

"Probably, tch," the Al Bhed said and then held out a hand. "Name's Cid. Honestly thought I'd already met the only decent Yevonite out there, but I guess lightning strikes twice sometimes."

"Thanks, though I'm _really_ not a Yevonite," Tidus snorted, and took the man's hand. "It's nice to meet you too Cid."

The Al Bhed nodded. "You might want to get below deck. We'll be taking off for Kilika in a moment, and this is no paddle boat. When we go, we go _fast_."

"Thanks, we'll head below in a moment," Tidus agreed and the Al Bhed nodded, heading off to talk with his men.

Seymour gave Tidus a sidelong look. "Not a Yevonite?" he asked, noncommittal.

"Yeah," Tidus said and his expression darkened for a moment. Then he shook his head and looked at him. "Doubt you are either, now that I think about it. Or are you?"

Seymour hesitated and then bowed his head. "Hardly," he said and it felt… good to admit it out loud.

Tidus grinned, a little sharper than he usually did. "Good," he said. "Come on. It's about to get windy up here, we should get below."

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha...


End file.
